Johnnie’s relief hit him so hard everything but his dick sagged. “That’s my girl,” he said with pride and wrapped her in his arms again, loving her with everything in him and admiring her hidden courage.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Zoann followed Matthew into the clubhouse and stopped short at the crowd of people, who yelled “Welcome home,” the moment they spotted her.
Laughter bubbled up, the gesture touching her. She didn’t have much of a social life, but seeing…friends cheering her entrance sent warmth rushing through her and underscored how she’d shut herself off from the world.
A small body barreled into her and she grinned down at Ryan, bending to take him into her arms. In the week since she’d awakened in the hospital, Matthew brought Ryan every day but only allowed her to hold him when she was situated in her chair. She missed the freedom to hold him whenever she wanted—whenever he demanded—and didn’t want him to feel rejected.
Before she lifted Ryan, Matthew scooped him up and Christopher materialized at her side, taking her hand and guiding her to a recliner, piled with pillows that had been placed in the center of the room. It took her a moment to reach the chair, however, with all the hugs she received along the way. Sinking down into the plushness and leaning back, Zoann smiled at Meggie. Her sister-in-law was at her side, throwing a plush red blanket over her, Meggie’s genuine concern urging Zoann to throw her arms around the other woman in an impulsive hug.
“How are you?” Without hesitation, Meggie returned her hug. “It’s so good to have you back.”
“It’s good to be back,” Zoann whispered, noticing Bailey and her sister at the other end of the bar. They waved at her and she smiled, nodding an acknowledgement. “Where’s Kendall?”
“Gone to a retreat.” Meggie sighed. “I went with Johnnie to the airport to see her off. It just broke my heart. But I’ve been calling her once a day to check on her and she’s doing better. Johnnie calls her early in the morning and late at night.”
“Wait, Meggie, slow down,” Zoann ordered, intrigued by one, outstanding detail. “You went with them to the airport and then rode back with Johnnie? Alone.”
“Bailey and Christopher went, too,” Meggie said, which made more sense to Zoann.
Meggie poked her tongue out at her and Zoann grabbed her hand and squeezed it. She didn’t know what went on behind closed doors but, outwardly, Meggie seemed to have adjusted to everyone’s pregnancies.
Funny, how opening herself up a little to Meggie had also given Zoann the feeling of belonging again.
“I was going to redecorate your room, but Val said not to. He said you’re moving into his room…?”
Asshole.
After their confrontation the day after their wedding, Val had shot down all of Zoann’s attempts to discuss the matter again, using Ryan’s presence as the excuse.
She twisted her wedding set. He’d purchased an engagement ring and a wedding band and, though furious at his trickery, she’d yet to remove the symbol of her marriage to him. On the other side of her, Meggie’s diamond and sapphire set sparkled, the brilliance a true testament to Meggie’s and Christopher’s relationship.
“What should I do?” she said softly, her entire world upside-down. She needed to think this through. Matthew was Valentine…Val. And Val fucked. A lot. “He said he’d sleep with other girls to spare me having sex with him.”
Was she seriously asking what to do? She knew what she needed to do. Shove his fucking rings down his throat and tell him to kiss her ass on his way to hell. At least, her independent side insisted that. The romantic in her asserted all reationships went through ups and downs, and all Matthew needed was understanding.
“First, you need to rest,” Meggie said firmly. “You can think clearer that way.”
“In my room or his?” She twirled some hair around her finger. She wouldn’t condone cheating. Almost anything else, but no more fucking other women. “Has he been…When was the last time he saw April?” Any girl really, but April, especially.
“Once Val returns from the hospital, he takes care of Ryan,” Meggie informed her. “For the past week, he’s even been taking him at night.”
“I’m going to talk to him later.” Maybe, now that she was home, he’d finally talk about their marriage. He’d either accept her terms or she’d walk away from him.
Simple as that.
She sneaked a glance in his direction and found him engrossed in conversation with Christopher, Johnnie, Digger, and Mortician. His profile was bold and sharp, her dream come true. But what a shallow dream. When all was said and done, they didn’t know one another.
He’d never brought up her rape after she’d admitted it, just as he hadn’t brought up the terms of their marriage. She hadn’t known the horror of his childhood until a few days ago, when she should’ve known months ago. She wouldn’t have condoned his behavior but she would’ve understood it better sooner and not been such a harsh critic.
Zoann tugged Meggie down to eye level. “I’m so sorry, Meggie,” she whispered.
Meggie smiled. “It’s fine, Zoann. Whatever happened is in the past. Christopher loves you and—”
“I love him,” she blurted. “I really do. I’ve been so angry with him. He just…he couldn’t even tell me himself he didn’t want to be bothered with me after my rape.” Christopher didn’t hide anything from Meggie and that probably included her assault. “I-I…Big Joe had to tell me. He had to call Christopher so I could hear it and—”
She shoved the dull ache aside at how unimportant Christopher considered the most life-changing event in Zoann’s life. He’d roll his eyes at all the hurt she still carried around.
“Forget I said anything. We talked about it when you were recovering in the hospital and he denied what he’d done.” she said quickly. “I’m still fucking delirious from all the pills.”
“Christopher spoke the truth,” Meggie insisted in a ragged voice just the same as she had in the hospital when Zoann had first blurted this to Christopher. Before Meggie had asked they talk alone and she’d gone into shock. “He never would’ve let you go through something so horrible on your own.”
Something about Meggie’s reaction bothered Zoann. Too tired to pinpoint the exact reason, she stared at her wedding ring. “He did,” she insisted and recited the conversation that continually haunted her. “Big Joe…I heard Christopher with my own ears.”
“My daddy…” Meggie swallowed, pain filling her eyes at the conclusion of Zoann’s retelling. “My daddy lied to you. I-I know he did.”
Zoann sighed, exhausted. She needed a fucking rest from her time in the hospital. Hospitals stays were the most exhausting endeavors on earth. Middle of the night vital sign checking. Bright lights in your face. Hobbling up and down the hallway three days after awakening from gunshots and surgery.
“Listen to me—” Meggie began urgently.
“I’m tired,” Zoann said quietly. “Let’s enjoy the fact that I’m alive. We’ll talk again. Soon. Okay?”
Meggie closed her eyes. “Zoann…Big J-Joe—”
“Meggie, please. Just give me tonight and pretend we didn’t have this conversation. I promise I’ll confront him tomorrow about what I heard.”
“He should know,” Meggie insisted. “He’ll be so angry with me if he discovers I didn’t tell him how I think—no, I know—my father sabotaged your relationship.”
“Please?” She couldn’t face any additional turmoil tonight, although the fierceness in which Meggie defended Christopher—even over her own father—gave Zoann pause. “All I ask for is tonight, then you can talk to him. Or I’ll talk to him. Or we’ll talk to him together.”
Although Meggie looked skeptical, she nodded, and Zoann breathed in a sigh of relief, forcing her attention to her welcome home party.
Drinking from the communal tequila bottle, Val leaned back, pretending not to keep watch on Zoann. He’d accused Outlaw of being Mr. Psycho Stalker but he was on the verge of turning
into one himself. He’d kept probates in the hospital parking lot 24/7. The plant he’d brought her had a small camera installed so he could monitor who visited and try to figure out who she spoke to whenever she received a telephone call.
He’d seen a new side to her. All in all, she was well-liked and popular. An endless stream of colleagues came in and out of her room. One doctor and one hospital security member Val fucking hated. Both of them wanted in Zoann’s pussy. Though she never encouraged it, it still pissed Val the fuck off.
While she was in the hospital, he’d been able to ignore her ultimatum. But she was out now. He wanted her in the room with him. He wanted to consummate their marriage. He had to act before she healed and went back to work and got on with her life. Without him.
“Would you pass me the fucking bottle?” Mortician demanded, holding his hand out.
Scowling, Val swigged from it once more, then thrust it at Mort, who guzzled it empty.
“What the fuck?” Johnnie snapped, glaring at Mortician and snatching the bottle away.
“You one stingy motherfucker,” Outlaw chortled, dragging on his cigarette and eyeing one of Ophelia’s former band members salivating behind Meggie. “Pay the fuckin’ Gs and get the fuck outta your misery.”
“Bitch here, Mort,” Digger added. He hadn’t been around much lately, spending a lot of time with the chick he’d met the night they’d found John Boy and given him his cut back. “You say you two hanging just as friends and you still getting a divorce and shit, so—”
“Prove it.” Johnnie smirked at Mortician and nodded in the direction of Zoann, Bailey, and Meggie, now surrounded by three death-wishy dickheads.
Folding his arms, the look in his eyes fierce enough to melt steel, Mort leaned back and studied the guy with the dirty blond hair, who was entertaining Bailey.
“Be patient with her, brother,” Johnnie said, frowning when the guy took out a business card and pushed it into Bailey’s hand. “More than I have been with Kendall when I forced her to go away.”
Outlaw sidled an irritated glance to Johnnie. “You been one patient motherfucker with Kendall. The most patient I ever fuckin’ saw you.”
“Yeah, John Boy,” Val added. “You had us walking on pins and needles. Even when she was dead fucking wrong, we had to keep fucking quiet.”
“Red need this, Johnnie,” Mortician said in an offhanded manner. “She must’ve banged her fucking head. She lost her fucking ability to reason and be diplomatic about shit. She fucking forgot getting in other motherfuckers’ shit get bitches fucked up.”
“Megan?” Outlaw called when her admirer’s glance slid to her ass.
Val wanted to do the same to Zoann but he doubted she’d sashay towards him like Meggie with just a single summon from Outlaw. For one moment, Zoann’s beautiful eyes captured his attention and he could do nothing but stare, afraid to move, not wanting to break their connection, afraid to hope at her unreadable expression.
The man she’d been speaking to stepped in front of her and Val felt the loss of her attention immediately. He wanted to growl in frustration.
She laughed.
How often had he made her laugh?
Zoann should have a man who could make her laugh. Who could face her problems with something more than hearing them once and then doing everything to brush them aside.
Val was a selfish fuck for wanting her so bad. He’d already hurt her so many times and he always struck at her most vulnerable.
He rubbed a hand over his brow, his fingers trembling. He needed his fucking pills. Nothing existed when he took them.
Meggie squealed in outrage and Val stiffened, remembering what had happened the last time he’d taken those pills.
Nothing had existed but a conscienceless maniac.
His blood chilled but his gut bubbled with warmth. He was a dead man if Outlaw ever found out the full truth.
But Meggie didn’t have to know he used again. No one had to know. He could leave, escape, be the man Zoann needed in his fucking head. It was hard as fuck knowing where to start being the man she needed him to be in real life.
“Val?” Meggie said softly.
He snapped his attention to her and Mortician straightened, on high alert. Meggie had gone out of her way to avoid him for the past few days, for which Val was grateful. He didn’t want his guilty conscience sentencing him to death by word or deed.
Outlaw wrapped an arm around her waist and pulled her onto his lap, staring at Val as if he knew what he’d done.
Just the wake-up call Val needed. Sweat popped off his forehead and he could almost smell his own fear. They were all turning his way. Johnnie’s brows drew together and Val tightened his fists.
Bailey halted between him and Mort and Val drew in a deep breath, inhaling her scent, detecting Mort’s scent on her, too. He’d been fucking her. Val knew women. Their smell. Their taste. Their softness. He knew Mortician, too. Motherfucker had marked her with his scent while swearing he intended to divorce her. Judging by Outlaw’s amused expression and Johnnie’s smirk, they knew Mort had thoroughly fucked Bailey.
Just like Outlaw kept Meggie.
Val’s unfocused gaze went from Meggie to Bailey and back again, imagining the two of them fucking each other. Imagining…Fuck. What was wrong with him?
He was a pathetic asshole. He didn’t want the life he’d known for as long as he could remember to ruin what he had with Zoann. They were married now. He wanted them to work.
More than anything, he didn’t want to hurt Meggie or Bailey. He respected them and really liked them. That was the difference, he realized. With Zoann. With Meggie and Bailey. Even with fucking Kendall.
He saw them as people rather than just pussy. They were part of his family. They amused him and laughed and joked with him. They fucking trusted him.
Well, at least Bailey did, at this point. Not so much Meggie and not at all with Zoann. And Kendall? They shared a mutual dislike, although he’d really never done that bitch anything for her to dislike him.
“Are you all right, Val?” Bailey’s sexy voice washed over him. Her glossy black hair fanned out as she leaned toward him, her square-neck shirt revealing the tempting peaks of her breasts.
He needed to get out of there before he got himself fucked up. If he stood up, however, they’d all see his hard dick. Maybe, he should, just to see Mortician’s reaction. But Zoann might see his erection, too, and he didn’t want that. He had to make himself worthy of Zoann and their children.
Meggie started toward him, then stopped, her hesitation breaking through some of his fog. She took care of them as much as Outlaw allowed her to. He didn’t trust anyone with her. And, yet, when Val was down, when he’d been Val, she’d been there, teasing him and laughing with him. He’d ruined that.
“Val?” she said, hovering closer to Outlaw than she normally did when she dealt with him.
Outlaw drew his brows together and cocked his head to the side, the strangeness of Meggie’s behavior not lost to him. She inched forward another bit. Her stepfather had molested her and this was the one place she’d always felt safe.
“I asked if you needed me to watch Ryan tonight for a little while, so you and Zoann could talk?”
He glanced in Zoann’s direction. She looked tired, but he needed to get this over with. They had to discuss her rape, too. He had to tell Outlaw, somehow, that his father had raped Zoann, which meant his father would’ve also killed him if Logan had won that abominable bet.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Zoann sat on the edge of Matthew’s bed, her exhaustion disentergrating as he sauntered out of the bathroom with only a towel wrapped around his neck. Even though her wounds throbbed, she studied him with interest, from the top of his head to the bottom of his feet.
His hair had gotten even longer now and she was glad he hadn’t shaved it off after he’d recovered from the gunshot wound to the neck. She liked the dark richness of the silky strands. His most recent gunshot injury to his right
arm was barely noticeable. He’d even stopped wearing bandages. The bruising from his beating—which she was still unclear about—had all but faded away. He looked like her Matthew again. Rugged and handsome. At the moment, even his cock looked harmless, not even semi-erect.
Grinning at her staring, he faced her, his length stiffening. He dropped next to her and scrubbed the towel through his hair before throwing it on the floor, the heat of his gaze warming her profile and making her cheeks flame. She curled up her toes, then straightened them again.
“You look very pretty,” he whispered against her ear.
She bit down on her lip. His hand landed on her shoulder and her heart rate sped up. She flinched, too. Completely stupid. He sat right beside her. Of course, he’d touch her.
He squeezed her shoulder, his big hands gentle, and nuzzled her neck, licking a trail down her throat.
Twisting toward him, she groaned, both at the pain and the sensation streaking through her.
“Do you want me?”
Yes. She did. She’d sworn she’d give them a new start, asked Meggie to give her tonight before she faced Christopher. But new beginnings started here with Matthew. In his arms. She nodded. “Yes. I want you.”
He stilled and stared at her, then took her face between his hands and kissed her with tenderness. He stopped and stared at her again, as if he didn’t believe she existed. Then, he smiled, awe and wonder filling his eyes.
“Not tonight,” he said gruffly, running his fingertips over her forehead, down her nose, along her jawline. “I know you’re still in pain.” He gave her a heavy-lidded leer. “Aren’t you?”
Instead of responding, she pulled back, suspicion welling in her. “You can’t cheat on me ever again,” she said quietly, knowing if she didn’t learn how to enjoy his mouth on her—at the least—then they were doomed. He was deeply into filling his mouth with pussy or a woman’s mouth with his dick.
Death Dwellers Motorcycle Club:: Fifteen Bad Boy Biker Books Page 150
